Playtime
by A Raven Called Elliot
Summary: When Toris Lorinaitis picks up little Vanya on his door step, he never knew that it was a cursed doll who feeds on human flesh. his prefered victimes? those who's innocence is still intact. Will Toris be able to survive where so many other's died?


AN: what is this? a new story! D:. anyway this is my frist ever horror.

Disclaimer: i don't own Hetalia, never have never will.

Prologue

"M-Monster!" his fear in his blue green eyes was apparent, he could barely move. His breath came out ragged, wet; every exhale made blood spittle out.

"I thought you loved me?" came a voice, innocent, childish but the tone was off.

"Stay away from me!" the boy screamed, his blood soaked blond hair torn out from his scalp, some of it was stuck in the blood on his clothing, on his missing leg still fresh and bleeding.

"But I love you" the heavy steps came closer, a dark evil laugh. "Why don't you love me" he seemed sad. The very last thing that the boys blue eyes saw was a smile, bloodstained from the feeding. Then his vision swam and pinpricked with black as the blood left his body from his missing leg and fingers.

"But don't worry, your heart will always be in me" the other gave childish voice laugh and he sunk his claws into the small boys chest; Ripping out his heart and devoured it, like all the other parts of his master.

"I feel…warm" the other living being said as he closed his light violet eyes; A satisfied smile on its lips.

Hours went by until the front door was unlocked.

"Peter! I'm home!" An accented voice drifted up the stairs to peter's room. When he heard no answer he looked at his watch. 6:00PM. Far too early to head off to bed. The man gave a huff and walked to the salon, peering in. his green eyes looked at the TV. It wasn't on, nor was his little brother glued to it. 'Must be in his room' he reasoned.

By the time supper arrived Arthur Kirkland was getting worried, sure his cooking wasn't the best but the boy would always come down for super. Then something wet hit the top of his head then his shoulder. Confused he touched it, his eyes widened when they returned covered with a deep red. He looked up seeing the great red stain above him, spreading outwards. He moved back, scream clawing up his throat. 't-that's peter's room' he remembered as he ran up the stairs at full tilt. He stopped at the door, dreading what he would probably see. He pushed the almost closed door open. It creaked, like it was crying for him. For Peter.

The legs that once held up the once proud Arthur buckled and he fell. His emerald eyes rested on the boys open chest, ribs broken, arms torn, leg missing. His small brother's face was contorted in a silent scream, eyes wide open. Blood was everywhere, making a large pool around him. He saw something rustle, near his side. That new doll peter loved so much. Its small ball jointed hand rested inside the chest, and then another joined. He couldn't believe his eyes as the doll brought the blood cupped hands to its mouth and tilted back.

Then the doll saw him, its light purple eyes rested on his green eyes. Its blood covered mouth pulled up in an innocent smile. Then the scream Arthur so desperately held back erupted as he clutched his head.

'_The body of Peter Kirkland, 12 year old, was found dead in his room yesterday afternoon. Police suspect Arthur Kirkland, his older brother who was the only person to see him alive last. Mr. Kirkland was committed to the St-Gaia…' _the anchorwoman spoke as the picture of a happy looking child with bright blond hair, sea green eyes and generous brow appeared on screen then switching to a brooding man with emerald green eyes and messy blond hair, depicting Peter and Arthur Kirkland, the sad main characters of the news on various channels.

"OMG Rissy can you like change that? It's like totally making me sad!" Feliks pouted from the kitchen deciding to fix some food for his sick friend. Toris coughed and changed the channel feeling sorry for the poor boy. There were sick evil people in this world. He changed it to MTV, something that Feliks can enjoy without having nightmares.

Soon enough, soup was brought out for the sick man by a blond in pink frilly apron.

"I totally have to go, like work and stuff." Feliks said his face still pouty, as if it were the end of the world.

"Don't worry Feliks, it's just a head cold, I should be fine in the morning" Toris replied, knowing deep down Feliks worried about him. After all the Lithuanian was right, in the morning he was fully able to get to work.

A week after the murder, Toris started to notice when he walked he wandered past a particular doll shop, but he welcomed the change. Weeks, turned into Months and he found any time walking that he would past that same doll shop. One night he wanted to go to the corner store down the street from his apartment but he found himself in front the small shop, it flooded warm light on the street through its doll filled window.

"Welcome! Please come again~! Give Jenny a good home!" a small girl held onto a doll with her arm, one hand was holding her father's hand.

"I will" she called back to the shop owner, who waved goodbye.

"Hello, you look cold" the shop owner said, looking at Toris who's been standing there for a while. "Come in" he invited. Toris walked up the steps and the door closed behind him with a jingling of the bells.

"Are you sure, it's very late" the Lithuanian fretted.

"No, no, I just need some company other then dolls" the shop keeper gave a bitter smile. Toris thought that this man was a bit odd, but he seemed harmless enough.

"Ah please sit down, I'll get some tea" he smiled. He hobbled off to the back of the shop as Toris sat down. Something in the far corner caught his eye. A small doll, its flaxen hair groomed lovingly but the light purple eyes seemed too sad, as if it were crying. Strange, Toris thought as he looked at the other dolls, only this doll had the impression of an emotion. He walked up to it; he was wearing a coat and a ratty scarf that has seen better days.

He went to gingerly touch his face were he saw Russian Cyrillic characters etched into his cheek. It has been a while since he has read Russian but it came back surprisingly easy.

"Vanya" he uttered, the doll leaned slightly into his hand. 'Must've fell' he mumbled to himself and righted the slightly fallen doll.

"You don't want that one" Toris jumped and spun to see the shop keeper's warning brown eyes.

"It's cursed; every owner meets an unfortunate end, like that poor boy" he placed the tray of tea on the desk and ran a hand through his salt and pepper black hair. Toris blinked, did he mean the boy that was found a few months earlier. He looked back at the doll; he seemed so innocent and harmless.

'Take me home…' a whisper in his ear came. He turned to the doll then shook his head. 'I'm getting tired' he laughed inwardly and sat with the shop keeper. Toris just stayed for a cup of tea, saying that he had to leave as it was getting very late.

The next morning when Toris walked out of his apartment his foot hit something. Looking down he saw the doll from last night, slightly dirty as if it moved through the grimy street by itself. He picked up the doll and rubbed a smudge from the small porcelain face and walked back inside. Setting it softly on the table, promising himself he would bring it back after work then closed the door and locking it.

The doll tilted his head and smiled looking at the door from where he sat on the table. 'Come home quick, master' it said in a soft childish voice.

Tell me what you think? no flames please.


End file.
